


can't fight the friction (can we pretend that we're in love)

by philindas



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Season 3B AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 22:41:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6585481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philindas/pseuds/philindas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just sex. Or at least, it's just supposed to be sex. But when it came to Phil Coulson and Melinda May, nothing was ever quite as it was supposed to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i just wanna feel your lips against my skin

**Author's Note:**

> Basically this is the season 3b au that I spent all of hiatus thinking about and finally decided to write! Basically takes place immediately after 3x10 and while I may incorporate some of 3b canon, this is mostly just an excuse for angsty philinda smut. Title from Friction by Imagine Dragons and Is There Somewhere by Halsey.

“We have these things for a reason,” her voice is soft as she comes up behind him, the tube of ointment in her hands and kindness in her eyes. He sighs, his eyes heavy, before he turns towards her, leaning back against the counter.

“It’s just a cut,” he tells her, and she merely raises an eyebrow as she waits for him to sit on the counter. He shrugs off his jacket, leaving him in an undershirt that showed off his defined biceps and rather impressive pectorals. A nasty cut on his upper arm was dripping blood; she gently cleaned it before applying the ointment, covering it with the bandage, fingers soft against his skin.

“Whatever happened up there- you’re home safe now,” she murmurs, unable to look at him, instead focusing on making sure there were no other open wounds. “If you want to talk, I’m here. And if you don’t…well, I’m still here.”

“Ward is dead,” he said after a few moments, and Melinda’s fingers flexed against his forearm. She didn’t speak, just held his arm, and watched as he swallowed thickly.

“Good,” she finally answers, reaching a hand up to touch his jaw; he leaned into her touch, and heat flushed over her skin at the heavy, dazed look in his eyes. “Phil…”

He leans closer; he smells like dirt and sweat and exhaustion, but her eyes flutter closed regardless, overwhelmed by his heat and proximity. She exhales shakily, licking her lips, and Phil lets out a low groan before his hands are on her face and his mouth is on hers.

She kisses him back before she can register anything else; he tastes like the shot of scotch he must have taken before he’d come here, and just like Phil has always tasted. It’s not the first time they’ve kissed- they’d been undercover before, and they’d gotten drunk at the Academy, so his taste wasn’t new. Instead, it was almost like coming home- she melted into him, hands gripping his shirt as his fingers twine in her hair, hauling her closer.

They break apart when oxygen is absolutely vital, but they don’t stray far; his noses brushes hers, and her grip on him tightens. “Just tonight.”

He doesn’t give a verbal answer; just kisses her again, moving with her to the door. Melinda’s room is down the hall from the med bay, and they stumble together; Phil presses her against the door, his hips rocking into hers, and she gasps against his mouth. He takes the opportunity to bite down her neck, careful not to leave marks but hard enough to make her squeeze her eyes shut, her fingernails digging into the back of his neck to keep him close.

She fumbles for the doorknob, finally succeeding in pushing it open, and together they moved into the room, Phil flicking the lock behind him as he guides her towards the bed. Her knees hit the mattress and she falls gracefully; her hands go to the button of her pants as Phil tugs his shirt over his head, baring his scar as she shoves her pants down her legs.

He joins her on the bed, kissing her again as she curls her leg around his, the fabric of his pants rough against the smooth skin of her thighs. “Pants, off,” she gasps against his mouth, and he parts from her unwillingly to undo the button of his pants, shoving them off and leaving him in boxers.

Instead of rejoining her on the bed, though, he grasps her thighs and tugs her to the edge of the mattress; his bites are less gentle here, knowing they’ll be covered by her clothing, and she can’t help the cry she lets out when he mouths at her sex through the thin cotton of her panties. Her hands find his hair as he learns her through the soaked material, until she nudges at his head, needing more. He peels the black fabric away before he delves back in, tongue slipping through the wetness between her legs.

“God you taste good,” he tells her breathlessly, pressing openmouthed kisses to her inner thighs as her fingers tightened against the back of his neck. His nose brushes her clit and her thighs clench around his head as his tongue slips through her folds. “You’re so wet for me.”

“ _Phil_ ,” Melinda breathes, her orgasm cresting as his fingers slid inside of her, pushing until they found the rough patch of flesh inside of her, rubbing against it. Her lips parted in a silent scream as she came, eyes squeezed shut and fingers digging into Phil’s skin.

She’s panting as Phil kisses his way up her body, but when his mouth meets hers, she moans at the taste of herself on his tongue. She can tell how hard he is, but he takes the time to just kiss her, so thoroughly she knows his tongue has to hurt. Her hand skims down his chest, tugging at the chest hair there lightly before slipping down into his boxers, wrapping around his cock and stroking. He groans against her mouth, bucking into her hand, and she finds herself straddling his lap as he tugs at her shirt and strips away her bra.

Melinda leans down to kiss him as she removes his boxers, trailing kisses along muscular thighs. She’s about to take him into her mouth when she feels Phil’s hands on her shoulders; she looks up, and his face is tight, his lips in a half-smile. “Not gonna last if you do that.”

The smile she gives him is soft as she settles herself over his hips, leaning down to kiss him as she lines them up, sinking down. She’s unable to hold back the gasp that forms in her chest as he fills her up, and his hands grip her hips tightly as he struggles not to thrust up into her. Once she was fully seated on him, she paused, inner muscles tightening around him as she adjusted. She sat up straight, tossing her hair over her shoulders, unable to keep the smile from her lip as Phil looks up at her.

She starts to move, slowly at first- a chorus of sighs and pants leave her throat as she takes Phil’s hands and guides them up her chest. His fingers knead her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples as he cupped her, hips rocking against hers. “Phil. Harder.”

His hand slide south, gripping her hips and planting his feet, thrusting up into her harder, pulling a high-pitched moan from Melinda as her head tilted back. The room was filled with the sounds of skin-on-skin and her moans and his encouraging voice, low and heated as he talked to her, telling her what she did to him.

The movement of her hips over his begins to stutter; her breath comes out in sharp pants intermingled with gasps of his name, hands on her neck, moving up to tangle with her hair as her eyes squeeze shut.

“I- I can’t,” she pants, shifting forward and placing her palms on his chest. The veins in her neck strained as she tried to pick up their rhythm, faltering as her face twisted. “Phil, I need-”

She didn’t even need to finish the sentence; Phil’s leg snaked over hers and he flipped them over, pressing her into the mattress. Her teeth sank into his shoulder as he maneuvered her thigh up over his hip, moving with her as his hands ran over her skin.

“God, Melinda,” Phil’s voice is rough as he mouthed over her jaw, hips thrusting sharply into her as she coiled herself around him, touching him at every point possible. Their lips met in a clumsy kiss, all tongue and teeth and heat as Phil pressed her into the mattress; her hand slid between them, slicking over her clit and causing her to silence a moan in his neck, fingers tightening against his back.

“I’m close,” she murmurs in his ear, teeth tugging on the lobe and reveling in his low groan. The heat that washed over her filled her to the brim, and with a final thrust, her index finger pushed down on her clit as she fell off the edge with an exhaled sigh of his name. Phil kept moving, helping her through her orgasm; once she’d calmed, Melinda claimed his mouth once again, giving him permission to pick up the pace again.

His mouth didn’t leave hers as his thrusts increased in intensity; they shared air as he spilled himself inside of her, her name a strained exhalation against her lips. He pressed into her, pulling another moan from her; Melinda’s hands carded through his sweat-slicked hair, kissing him softly as their bodies cooled together.

Once he’d softened, he pulled out of her; he grabbed his shirt from the ground, pressing it between her legs to help her clean up. She licked her lips, suddenly thirsty, and he disappeared into the bathroom, returning a few moments later with a glass of water.

“Here,” he says softly, handing it to her; she takes it gratefully, sipping the cold water gingerly, wincing as her stomach tightened, reminding her how long it had been since she’d eaten. She sighed, settling back into the pillows, part of her hoping he’d climb back into bed with her in the warm sheets. He pulled on his boxers, his undershirt soon after, and she swallowed as his pants followed that.

“You could st-” she hasn’t even finished the sentence when Phil turns to her, already speaking.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, leaning down to kiss her cheek and cutting her off. The door shuts softly behind him, and she curls up under the covers, alone once again.

_

Things between her and Phil are civil. Not awkward, just civil. She tells herself its fine- a one off. They both needed comfort, they trusted each other. They could still be partners. It would be fine.

Three days later, Phil shows up at her room at midnight. She opens the door, surprised to find him there after barely being able to look at her; her mouth opens to speak but he kisses her before she can get the words out. She freezes for a second before she melts into him, hands touching his forearms.

“Just one more night,” he whispers against her lips, voice tinged with desperation, and she can’t say no.

She shuts the door behind him, flicking the lock.


	2. but we ain't really going to sleep at all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only time he feels like himself these days is when he’s behind closed doors with Melinda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you're all as surprised as I am that I actually got a second chapter out! Title from Often by The Weeknd.

The only time he feels like himself these days is when he’s behind closed doors with Melinda.

Ever since he’d returned from the planet- returned from crushing Ward’s chest, from watching the light leave the other man’s eyes- he had felt like a part of him was missing. Like a part of him had been dislodged, and was rattling around inside his body, and the only time he felt like all the pieces were in place was when his hands were on Melinda’s skin, his mouth on hers.

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about them, together like this, before. He’d had a crush on her in the Academy- they’d hooked up a few times, but nothing beyond a few heavy make out sessions with lots of hands. They’d been partners, and they’d never pursued a further relationship because they hadn’t wanted to ruin what they had, and they’d had different plans for the future, no matter how much he’d wanted to be with her.

When he’d pictured them getting together, it hadn’t involved a string of late night booty calls. It hadn’t involved leaving her room every few nights after the most incredible sex he’d ever had to stumble into his cold, empty bed. There was nothing he’d like more than to wrap himself around Melinda and fall asleep with her- but if she’d wanted him to stay, she’d have asked. The first time- after she’d cleaned his wounds and told him she was there for him- she’d told him it was “just tonight”. He’d shown up three days later, unable to go much longer without touching her- it was like a disease. He needed his hands on her to feel right; to feel human.

She’d locked the door and taken him into her bed again, riding him until she’d collapsed atop him, panting hard as she melted against him. She hadn’t said anything as she’d slipped off of him, curling up under the covers and watching as he’d dressed. He’d kissed her again before he’d left, unable to help himself, before leaving without another word.

He should stop it- should be strong enough to stop it, but as he watches her train with Daisy, muscles rippling under the skintight pants she wore, he knows he can’t. She’ll end it soon enough, he’s sure, so he’ll take what he can get from her before she inevitably finds someone better.

“You forgot your shirt again last night,” he jumps at Melinda’s voice in his ear, swallowing at the low tone of her voice. “Keep it up and I’ll have a nice collection.”

His lips curl into a smile against his will; he looks down at where she’s untying her shoelace, tugging it off and massaging the arch of her foot. Daisy must have already headed for the showers, because it’s just him and Melinda in the training room, and it’s too early for most of the rest of the base to even be awake yet, let alone training.

“I know you like to sleep in them,” he replies with a shrug before he can even think, though his heart stutters in his chest when her shoulders tighten briefly before she relaxes, taking off her other shoe.

“They’re soft,” is her simple answer, and he swallows as the walls come back up. He opens his mouth to say something- what, he doesn’t know exactly, but he just wants to see her smile again; he’ll do anything to make her smile- but she’s turned so she’s facing him, still kneeling, and he can’t help the blood that rushes south. “Is that a pen in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

She’s undoing his zipper and tugging his slacks down before he can even speak; he grapples for something to hold onto, wrapping his fingers around the barbell holder, breathing heavily. Melinda leaves a trail of kisses across his thighs as she massages him through his boxers, his knees weakening.

“May…” he starts, but she cuts him off with a kiss through the cloth, and he’s lost; she tugs the navy fabric down and nuzzles her nose into the crease of his thigh.

“Just let me do this,” she murmured, hands kneading his tense thighs, trailing faint kisses along his hardening cock. His hand found her hair as her mouth wrapped around him, sucking lightly as she helped him to full hardness. He can’t help the groan that clogs his throat as she hollows her cheeks, tightening the pressure around him as she began to bob her head in a steady, pulsing rhythm.

He tries to keep it down, but she manages to wrap her tongue around his dick as she keeps up her rhythm, and his hand finds her hair as he moans out her name, heat coursing down his spine. She starts to hum, the vibrations of the low pitch sending tingles down his legs, and his fingers twist slightly in her hair, guiding her as she loosens her jaw, taking even more of him in.

“God, Lin-” she cuts him off with a sharp suck that makes his eyes roll back in his head, an incoherent noise leaving his throat. “ _Fuck._ ”

He can feel her smile around his cock, and it sends heat rushing to his groin; he barely has time to warn her before the switch flicks and he comes. She keeps her mouth around him, swallowing, until he finishes; she presses soft kisses to his inner thighs, hands rubbing his knees as he calmed, still breathing heavy.

She comes easily when he tugs her up; moans softly into his mouth when he kisses her, her hands warm against his sides as she clutches at his shirt. He lets himself get lost in it for a moment; pretend they aren’t in the middle of the gym, it isn’t barely six in the morning, and Melinda isn’t about to leave him for the showers so they can forget this happened.

There’s a muffled bang, and then Daisy’s muffled curses as the base shakes slightly, and they break apart, listening cautiously for a moment before Phil sorts himself out and Melinda picks up her shoes. She turns, fixing the knot of his tie, giving him a brief flash of a smile. “See you at the staff meeting.”

She throws the words over her shoulder with a swish of her hair before she disappears through the door to the locker room, and he runs a hand over his head, blowing out a breath. He was screwed.

_

She’s expecting the knock on her door that night.

The blow job in the training room hadn’t been planned, but she’d seen an opportunity and taken it. She liked the thrill of it; always had. And Phil certainly hadn’t seemed to mind; it had kept him in a good mood until Lincoln and Elena had come back from a scouting mission with bad news. New Hydra bases were springing up faster than pimples on a pre-teen, and it felt like they were constantly being blindsided by a new one.

Phil had been frustrated for most of the afternoon; had snapped at Simmons for almost no reason, gotten into an unnecessary argument with Daisy over a future mission, and nearly taken off Fitz head when he’d come to take readings of Phil’s still-new hand. She’d watched silently, cataloguing the tension in his neck and shoulders- taking note of the way he flexed his hand, clearly agitated.

She’d taken a shower when she’d returned to her bunk, and when she lets Phil in, her hair is still wet, and she hadn’t bothered to put a bra back on, just a simple dark blue tank top. Phil’s silent as he steps into her room; he’s ditched his suit for a pair of worn plaid pajama pants and an old SHIELD shirt, and her heart warms a little at how much younger he looks out of the formal uniform he’s been wearing for so many years.

His hand comes up to tangle in her damp locks, thumb brushing along the line of her jaw, and she leans into his touch as she flicks the lock on the door. He doesn’t waste any time before he kisses her; he has her pinned to the wall, a thigh between hers in moments, helping her rock down into him easily. He bites at her bottom lip, controlling and a little forceful, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel herself get wetter at the action.

She moves to touch him, but he pins her hands above her head, firm against the wall as he slotted his knee further up against her cunt, pushing the fabric of her underwear tight against her clit and drawing a moan from her. “No hands.”

She lets out a breathy moan, but nods; he releases her wrists, but she keeps her hands high as his fingers skim down her arms, brushing against the sides of her breasts. He lets out a groan when he realizes she’s bra-less, his kisses turning rougher as he mouths over the swells of her breasts above the neckline of her tank top.

He pulls the shirt up and off, his mouth gravitating instantly to her breasts as she tilts her head back against the wall, panting as he sucks firmly at her left nipple, fingers tweaking her right. She forgets for a moment and cups the back of his head, tugging him closer; he pulls away, hands grasping her wrists and forcing them back against the wall- not enough to hurt, but the pressure was surely leaving lightly bruised fingerprints on her wrists.

When he kisses her again, it’s a hungry, heated embrace; he tugs her sleep shorts off easily, and her panties follow shortly after- she spreads her legs with ease, a strangled moan exiting her lips as he slips her fingers through the slick heat there. His thumb taps out an easy rhythm on her clit as his index and ring finger slide inside of her; she turns her face into his neck, hands shaking where she holds them up while she rocks down into his hand.

He builds her up with almost embarrassing ease; she’s panting, unable to keep from moaning his name as he eases a third finger inside of her, his lips wrapped around her nipple and his free hand squeezing her hip tightly. She squeezes her eyes shut as she comes, a gasping, shuddering mess in his arms, and he catches her easily, pressing a kiss to her hair as she shivers, coming down from her high slowly.

They stumble to the bed in a mess of limbs, collapsing on the covers together as Melinda pulls him into a kiss, arms still shaking slightly as she cups his face. She wants so badly to get him naked, feel his skin against hers, but it’s been a long day and he’d pulled a rather impressive orgasm from her; she keeps kissing him until her eyes droop closed and they’re less kissing but merely brushing their lips together, an afterglow descending around them until everything was rose-colored and warm and soft.

She doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when she awakens beneath the covers the next morning, her usual 4:30 am alarm blaring, she’s alone. The disappointment she feels is nothing new, but now, it’s starting to hurt a little too.


	3. fucking in and fighting on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can’t keep throwing yourself in front of danger,” Phil’s voice has just the tinge of darkness to it, and she raises an eyebrow.  
> “It’s my job,” she reminds him, and his grip on her thigh tightens just a little, and she opens her mouth to speak again when he cuts her off by kissing her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.....I definitely did not mean for ten months to go by before I updated? I apologize. This chapter is relatively short but I think I've finally got my motivation back, so cross your fingers! Title from Pillowtalk by Zayn.

“May, get out of there, the building’s about to go!” Daisy’s voice crackles through her comms, and she picks up the pace, barely making it through the door frame before the ceiling gives way. She stumbles when the wave of rubble hits her, and falls to one knee, coughing as dust gathers around her.

Strong arms help her up- Mack and Daisy help her out of the dust and smoke, and Jemma and Bobbi are waiting. The younger agent examines her, hands gentle on her neck as she checks the blossoming bruise.

“You should be fine, just take some Tylenol and maybe go easy for a day or two,” Jemma tells her, and Melinda raises an eyebrow. Jemma sighs, exasperated. “24 hours. I’m asking for you to rest for _24 hours_ , Agent May.”

“I’ll consider it,” Melinda deadpans, and Jemma gives her an affectionate eye roll before she moves to help another agent.

Thankfully no one is severely hurt, and they’re able to return to the base with the Hydra intel they’d been looking for.

Melinda’s digging through the medicine cupboard in her room, and lets out a grunt of exasperation at discovering the Advil she has expired two years ago. Giving into the pain in the base of her skull, she heads for the medbay- she finds some Tylenol in one of the cabinets, and pops four with a glass of water.

She turns at the sound of footsteps, and Phil practically bursts into the room. She raises an eyebrow, but before she can say anything, he’s in her personal space, hands running over her body, fingers gingerly skating over the bruise on her neck.

“I’m fine,” she tells him quietly, though she doesn’t stop the touches. Phil pulls back, looking at her with dark eyes.

“Daisy said you were the last one of the building- and just barely,” he says, and she shrugs.

“We got the intel, and didn’t lose any agents,” she answers. “Simmons told me to take it easy for the next 24 hours.”

“You can’t keep throwing yourself in front of danger,” Phil’s voice has just the tinge of darkness to it, and she raises an eyebrow.

“It’s my job,” she reminds him, and his grip on her thigh tightens just a little, and she opens her mouth to speak again when he cuts her off by kissing her.

She gasps, startled, before she kisses him again, hand finding its way into her hair. Phil pulls back, looking at her, and she gives the faintest nod at his questioning look.

He kisses her again, taking her mouth- she sighs, gasping as she arches against him. Phil’s hand slid down her body, and he’s got the button of her pants undone, tugging her zipper down and dragging her to the edge of the counter. She helps get her pants off, moaning at the way he was mouthing at her neck- once she’s bare, his hand is between her thighs.

She’s so wet- she’s practically dripping on his hand, and she cries out as he fans his fingers out, just sliding through the slickness between her legs. Phil drags his middle finger over her clit and she bucks into him, nails digging into the back of his neck.

“ _Please_ ,” she begs, canting her hips towards his hand- Phil obliges by pushing two fingers inside of her, and the breath leaves her lungs as her muscles clamp down around him.

Melinda breathes out shakily, the muscles of her cunt undulating around his digits as he slowly starts a hard rhythm. She moans, unrestrained, head falling back and hitting the cabinet as she pushes her hips into his hand.

Phil’s fake hand kneaded her breast as his mouth sucked at her collarbone, and she pulls him closer, hitching her thigh up over his hip. One hand twined in her hair as the other reached out, gripping the cabinet as Phil continued to fuck her with his fingers.

She arches her back as she comes, mouth parted in a silent scream, and Phil groans, pushing her through the aftershocks until they were both left panting. Melinda catches her breath, eyes closed, before she pulls him closer, kissing him.

“Pants. Off,” she tells him breathlessly, shoving at him until she can get her hands on his belt, but her fingers are trembling too much to do anything, so Phil takes over. She kisses him, mess and deep, before she moves to his neck, dragging her teeth over his pulse point, drawing a groan from him.

Phil shoves his pants and boxers down, and Melinda wraps a hand around his cock; he shakes his head, kissing her, batting her hand aside. “Need to be inside.”

She nods jerkily, their mouths meeting as he pushes her thighs apart, thumb on her clit as he pushes inside of her. She cries out against his lips, his kiss muffling the noise, and he starts thrusting, biting her lip at how wet she was around him.

“You feel- so good,” he grunts in time with his thrusts, pushing against the rhythmic pulses of her walls, his thumb brushing in time over her clit and drawing keening whimpers from her. Melinda’s nails dig into the back of his neck as her right leg shifted higher on his waist, allowing him to push deeper inside her, rubbing against the rough patch of flesh that had her sobbing out his name.

“Close,” she gasps, swallowing hard as her hips started to lose their rhythm against his, his teeth sinking into her neck, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip as she comes, squeezing around Phil’s cock until he groaned out her name, following her over the edge.

They both caught their breath slowly, mouths locked together as his hands ran up and down her bare thighs, thrusting into her a little and drawing a soft sigh from Melinda. He can feel the sweat making his shirt stick to his back, and he groans a little when he realizes he’ll have to find a way to sneak back to his room to change.

“You left some clothes in my room. That way you won’t have to walk by the common area,” Melinda’s voice is soft, but he’s not surprised she’s able to read his mind.

She avoids his gaze as she pushes him away gently; he slips out of her, watching as she winces a little, and slides off the counter to pull her pants back up.

He does his own pants up, and once they’re decent, she shows him the back exit that takes them directly to the hall her room is in. She plugs in her passcode and holds the door for him, and once it’s shut behind him, tugs her shirt over her head.

“I’m going to shower. You know the way out,” her voice is distance, and she shuts the bathroom door behind her with a quiet click that echoes in his chest.


End file.
